


Of Mice and Men

by writeyourownlifestory



Category: G.I. Joe: Retaliation (2013)
Genre: F/M, g.i joe, x Reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2020-08-14 16:30:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20195287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writeyourownlifestory/pseuds/writeyourownlifestory
Summary: You meet a handsome guy in a bar and find that being the girlfriend of someone on a special forces team is a lot more complicated than expected.





	Of Mice and Men

**Author's Note:**

> So. Never thought I'd ever write "X Reader" but here we are. Honestly, I just did it so I could say I did it, and purposely chose the most unexpected Joe character to write this about. Tell me what you think?

You met at a bar, which in itself is pretty surprising because bars aren’t your scene. Maybe you drink, maybe you don’t. It all depends on the moment and your emotions. You’re there to meet up with some friends or maybe coworkers. You don’t remember. Everything before him is a bit of a blur, to be completely honest. 

He was with some buddies of his, standing off in the corner playing some game. They were rowdy and loud, which was to be expected. The bar isn’t the type of place where you’d sit down quietly and discuss things. You go to laugh, and drink and have a good time. Sometimes the place would have some guy in the corner with a guitar, singing along to old songs, though tonight they stuck with the jukebox and radio. 

You were waiting for your drink, leaning against the bar as you listened to some old country song. It was the type of song that everybody knew even if you didn’t actively listen to it. You weren’t singing along because you didn’t sing in public, but you hummed to the chorus when your drink finally came. 

You thanked the bartender, wrapping your hand around your glass though just as you turned to go back to your table, it was knocked out of your hand by a passing bar-goer. He stumbled into you, staggering back at the glass crashed to the ground. Liquor, ice, and glass scattered all along the floor. 

There was a moment of silence that was filled with shock and annoyances you looked up to face the man who slammed into your arm. He looked just as surprised as you were, with a tad bit of remorse added to it. 

“Christ. I am so sorry.” He muttered, going back and forth between looking between you and the mess on the floor. 

“It’s all right,” You say, even though it wasn’t.

“I wasn’t looking where I was going.” He mentions even though it was obvious. “I’ll get you a new one.” 

You shake your head because you don’t want to be a bother, but the guy is already heading to the bar. He slaps his hand onto it repeatedly to get the attention of the bartender and then looks back at you. You rattle off your drink of choice, choosing to just let the guy buy you another one. 

You watch as a worker cleans up your mess and apologize to them even if it wasn’t your fault. You don’t like to cause trouble for anybody, though they wave you off like it’s no big deal. And it wasn’t. No use in crying over spilled alcohol, right?

You turn your head back to watch the bartender make your drink, checking to make sure nothing was slipped inside of it. The dark world we live in, but what can you do? 

The guy smiles triumphantly as he holds up your drink, giving a dramatic display as he offers it to you. “My lady,” 

“You’re sweet,” You speak, taking the glass up from his large hands, bringing it to your lips for a slow sip. It’s sweet and bitter all at the same time.

You stand there, teetering between the bar and the tables until the shout of your name gathers your attention. You look back, suddenly remembering who you were with. You thank him once more, turning on your heel so you could return to your table. 

You sit down and try to enjoy the night, chattering with your small group of people who arrived for the small hangout. Now and then you catch the guy glancing your way. You can contently say he doesn’t spend the night staring at you as he is busy with his group of friends, but your eyes lock a time or two. 

You didn’t think anything of it, especially as the bar began to fill up and the sound of the music playing over the radio and the endless conversation is too just for you. You excuse yourself to use the restroom, shuffling through the crowd. There were other bars in your area, but you guessed this one had the most atmosphere. Or maybe it was close and people were lazy. Who knew. 

There was a small line building and you step onto it without a second through. You’re looking at your phone, trying to keep busy when a voice catches your attention. 

“We meet again,” The guy in front of you mentions. 

For a moment you thought it was a joke. Meeting the guy from before on the line for the bathroom of all things. It seemed a little too cliche, but you try not to overthink it. 

“There’s only one bathroom. And I’ve been there for about . . . eight minutes.” He confessed, shifting his hand as he took his guesstimate. “I think some guy is getting lucky in there.” 

“Seriously?” You mutter, raising your brows in surprise. 

You understood the kink of having sex in a public place. You could never imagine doing it yourself, but who were you to judge those brave enough to take the chance. 

You both stand there, not sure what to do. Sure, he had the option of heading to the alleyway and pissing by the dumpster, but you weren’t lucky enough to be able to aim. So you remain online, hoping that the bastard inside the room was enjoying himself. 

“Having fun?” The mystery man asked, shifting to lean back against the wall, his arms crossing over his chest. 

You shrug. You’re not having a bad time, even if this isn’t your scene. You can be social or you could be unsocial. You could bounce off the walls or sit quietly in your room. All depends on the situation. Tonight, you’re enjoying yourself though of course there were other things you’d love to do. Other things you could be doing if you weren’t in this cramped bar, waiting online to pee. 

“Are you?” You asked, trying to get a good look at him. 

The bar was dim though his hazel eyes shined well enough. He’s cute enough, you think. Boyish smile with dimples. The regular looking guy with a nice build and strong arms. 

He bobs his head, proceeding to explain that he was meeting up with a couple of guys from work. He mentions that he hasn’t seen them in a while, as they were all stationed in other places. You wondered what he meant, but didn’t question it. You just stand there and listen, shifting your feet as you silently thanked yourself for choosing comfortable shoes. 

When the door to the bathroom opens, you watch as a guy and girl slip out of the room together. They were blissfully happy and there is a simmering in your stomach when you catch a glance of their linked hands and wrinkled clothing. 

Rather than stepping inside, the guy holds the door open, gesturing for you to go in. You shake your head, reminding him that he waited a lot longer than you had, but he refuses. “I’m special forces. I can hold it, trust me.” 

You take the hint and shuffle inside, trying to best to be quick so the poor guy doesn’t have to suffer any longer. You think about what he said, about special forces and being stationed and realize he’s military based. You don’t know what to do with this information and carry on with what you were doing. 

You exit a moment later, shaking your hands because you hate those stupid air dryers. They never work right anyhow. 

The guy is nowhere to be seen and you wonder if he decided to piss out in the alleyway after all. You look around curiously, though it’s too crowded to see anyone. You shuffle back to your table and remain for another hour, laughing and commenting about whatever subject comes up. 

You get a Lyft home because you’ve been drinking and you don’t think about the special forces guy until you’re settling in for the night. It’s a silly cliche to meet a cute guy at the bar but then again, cliches exist for a reason. You don’t allow yourself to wonder if you’d ever see him again, because you have very little intentions of going back to the bar any time soon. 

Except you do go back, against your better judgment. It’s busy again and you and your associates arrive later than usual. There is no table to sit at, so you’re standing in the corner. Someone bought you a drink, which is nice because you don’t have much cash on you, but it tastes strong and you don’t have the stomach for strong alcohol. 

The music isn’t that good and you last about an hour before finally making an excuse to leave. You ramble off some bullshit that you don’t will be taken seriously because honestly, what does it matter if you stay or go. You can be a good company but you surely won’t be pissed on this night. You head out the front, standing off to the side as you go to order another ride home. 

“Heading out already?” You hear over your shoulder and you turn to see the special forces guy. You didn’t expect to see him, even if you did take a casual look around when you first entered. 

A few other men make their way into the bar and you guess that is his selected crew. You rattle off the same excuse as you had to your friends/coworkers/whoever they are at this point, though he doesn’t buy it the way they did. 

“Shame. Was hoping I could buy you another drink.” He admitted, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. 

“I already had one.” You confess, thinking about to the bitter-tasting bottle that you held for the entirety of your stay. 

“I could buy you something else.” He offers slightly, gesturing to the pizza place across the street. 

It was small and dingy, but the place pizza places always are. Places that have to promote themselves as a family-friendly restaurant isn’t going to give you good tasting pizza. Maybe delicious garlic knots or pesto ravioli, but if you wanted good pizza, you have to go to a place smaller than a New York City apartment. 

You ate earlier, but who could say no to free food, so you follow him across the way, discussing different toppings and such. You aren’t a picky eater, not really. Sometimes you prefer one thing over another, but in the end, you’re just happy for the food. You order your pie, which is scattered with all different things and sit down at a small table you both have to squeeze into. 

You’re sucking on the straw of your fountain drink when the pizza is placed beside you and you both dig in. He is halfway through his slice when he speaks up, swallowing down hard when a certain realization hits him. 

“I don’t know your name.” 

You speak it softly, taking a bite of your slice after the name leaves your lips. 

“Morris.” He admits. “Friends call me Mouse.” 

You cock your head, trying to understand why. He isn’t exactly small, so it wouldn’t be a proper comparison nor is he large enough to make the nickname ironic. You just bob your head, deciding that Morris is good enough for you. 

You make idle chit-chat and learn more about each other. You tell him what you do for a living and he talks about his military life. The pizzeria lightening is better than the bar, allowing you to get a good look at him now. He’s cute. Boyish and handsome. You snort as he takes a large bite, nearly taking the entire slice, crust included into his mouth. You both laugh it off as he chews, luckily not choking on his little antic. 

You wonder if any of the others will leave the bar and come here, seeing you. Would they question you, see if you ditched them for a guy? Would they be right?

No one else comes in after that, so it’s just the two of you lost in your little world. You finish your pizza and drinks but remain sitting and talking until the place is closing up and you get kicked out. 

“Can I give you a ride home?” He asked, holding his keys out. 

You thought about saying no and thanking him for the pizza, but the idea of talking to him for a little while longer was too tempting. You follow him to his truck, hoping in easily enough. You give him the address but he doesn’t put it into a GSP or anything. 

“Are you from around here?” You ask casually, wondering if you’ve lived in the same area and never knew about it. 

“I’m from all over.” He tells you as you head out onto the road. He takes it slow, keeping the conversation up as you go. You don’t live far, but you don’t mind the gentle motion. 

When he finally pulls up to your place, you both pause. You thank him for the company and the food and he does the same. You see a small flush across his cheeks and he’s looking between the steering wheel and yourself until he finally breaks. 

“Can I call you sometime? The text you?” 

You don’t give your number out often, mostly because nobody asks for it. You also don’t date that much because of reasons X/Y/Z. Still, you give him the number anyway, passing him your phone so he could put his number in. 

When you get it back, you thank him again for the night, hopping out of the truck and heading into your place. Your phone buzzes as you walk through the door and you see a message from “M” with a mouse emoji. The message is simple enough, asking if you were free tomorrow. 

Another message comes in, asking if it’s too soon to ask. You chuckle softly, thinking about what you had planned for the following day. You worked but were lucky enough to get out at a decent time. 

You offer it up to him and Morris jumps, swearing to pick you up an hour after you get out so you both had time to get ready. There are butterflies in your stomach for the rest of the night and even during the day. You don’t text him first because you don’t want to come off as too eager.

You knew it was silly. That it was all stereotypical bullshit. If you were excited you were allowed to be. No one should make you feel bad for wanting to see someone or do something. Morris does text you however, checking in to see how you’re doing and asking if there was anything specific you wanted to do. 

You didn’t know if it was a date or a hangout but so long as you weren’t taken back to that bar, you didn’t care. He promised to plan the whole thing and you trusted his judgment, putting your phone away so you could get some work done. 

When you get home, get ready. You shower, letting your hair dry as you pick out your outfit. You try to keep it casual, but you want to look cute. You put something together, deciding to be a bit outrageous and choose heels this time. You apply your makeup and sit at the kitchen table, waiting patiently for him to arrive. 

The butterflies in your stomach remain as the familiar truck pulls up and just as you go to open the door, he hops out, a small bouquet in hand and smiling bashfully. “I was just about to knock.” He admits shyly. 

“Bit old fashioned, don’t you think?” 

You had never gone on a date before where the guy arrived on your doorstep to knock and greet you. This wasn’t the fifties nor a small town. Usually, it was a text saying they had arrived or more than usual, you’d agree to meet at a chosen location. 

“Well, I can be pretty old fashioned sometimes.” He confessed, holding the flowers out for you to take. 

The bouquet is small but lovely. You’ve never been given flowers by a guy before. Family sure, but not a date. You’re beginning to realize that this is, in fact, date and the butterflies just get worse, but you more solid few it, following him off to his truck. 

He’s rattling on about his plans for you both and you can see that he is a bit nervous too. It helps you realize, though you have to laugh silently. Why would he be nervous? You were nice to look at and good company, but nothing to get nervous about. He was sweet and nice, something very hard to find, so it was normal for you to get a bit nervous. 

You go for dinner at a place in town that isn’t a chain restaurant or fast food place. He pulls in your chair and asks you about work the moment you’re sitting down, showing off how attentive and caring he could be. It throws you for a loop, but you don’t question it. Instead, you choose to enjoy it, asking him the same questions as you get to know one another better. 

He has been in the military nearly his whole life. He was a specialist and while he didn’t want to go into detail, he made it very clear that he was very good at his job. 

“Have you ever killed someone?” You ask boldly, halfway through your meal. 

He is silent for a moment, outweighing his options. “Only the bad guys.” 

“How do you know who is good and who is bad?” You question, leaning in close. “I mean, technically, from their side, you’re bad and they’re good. Who is right and who is wrong?” 

You didn’t know what reaction you’d get. He could be angry for you questioning his line of work or call you stupid for calling someone against the military anything other than the villain. Instead, he laughed it off, leaning back in his seat with a laugh. “Very philosophical of you.” 

You’re both silents for a moment and while there is a gentleness to his face and voice the things he is saying are very serious. “I guess I just want the world to be a better place to live. And maybe the things I do care a little unethical but I have to believe I’m succeeding in one way or another.” 

“Like a modern-day superhero.” You say and it makes his smile widen just slightly. 

“Maybe.” He whispered, turning his attention back onto his meal. 

You spent the rest of your dinner eating and chatting about this or that, little things that you wouldn’t discuss with a stranger because you know they wouldn’t care. But Morris isn’t a stranger at this point. When the bill comes he pays before you can even grab it. 

“You can get it next time.” He promises, placing the money down and standing from his chair. 

The possibility of another date is already hanging in the air and it leaves you in awe as you follow him out of the place. The weather is nice so you walk for a bit, finding that talking to him was oh so very easy. 

You decide to grab some ice cream and you make a very big deal over the fact that you’re paying for it. He just laughs it off and gets his double scoop, following you around the town as the warm air whirls around you both. 

You continue to walk and talk before going into his truck and driving around for a bit. The conversation never dulls though you know it has to come to an end as the hours continue to tick on. He pulls up in front of your place and you’re both smiling brightly. 

He walks you to your door, like the gentleman he is and you thank him for a lovely time, finding that you can’t remember such a great night with any other former suitor. He says the same, squeezing your hand gently. You stand there for a moment and think that he will kiss you but instead he lets you go and makes his way back to his truck. 

You go into your home, finding that he has already texted you, leaving you with a promise that the next date will be even better. You go to bed wondering when the hell you entered a hallmark movie. 

Or maybe a lifetime movie as hallmark is always a bit too fluffy and sweet while lifetime offers a bit of drama, which is exactly what comes your way. You go on your second date, which is even better than your first.

You argue over who pays since you paid for the ice cream and Morris fights that that didn’t count as the second date. You try to do what he did and persuade him to hang on until the next date when he could go back to flashing his cash but the persistence doesn’t work. He becomes quite suddenly and you wonder if you had done something wrong.

“Are you okay?” You asked after stepping out of the restaurant. 

Morris looks whiplashed, lost in thought that you had ripped him from. His bright smile is back and he plays it off like it was nothing. 

“Come on, pretty girl. Let’s go skip some stones.” Taking your hand, Morris leads you down to the water. He picks up some rocks and begins tossing them and you watch as they skip across the surface. 

He shows you how it’s done and when it’s your turn the rock sinks almost automatically. He tries to show you again and you have to admit the second time is a tad bit better but it’s still a pathetic attempt. 

You try a few more times, stopping only when you hear him say your name. 

“I’m heading out tomorrow,” he admits to you quietly. “When I come back, will you go out with me again?” 

You paused, not realizing that had ever been an option. Normally people went on one date and then another and then another. You had teased him about your next date but his response threw you for a loop and for a small moment you wondered if he didn’t want another. Now he was giving you puppy dog eyes like you were bound to say no. 

“When are you coming back?”

He shrugged, stepping closer. “Hard to tell. But will you?” He smiled then, full of boyish charm. “Gotta give me something to come back to.” 

You rolled your eyes and turned, tossing the rock as it sunk into the water. “Someone has to teach me this shit,” you told him, smiling on your own as laughter erupted from him. 

It was a week later when you heard back from Morris. You didn’t worry about it because this was his job and you knew he was far across the sea, saving the day and everything in between. 

You had just showered and was sitting in your bed, being lazy and comfortable when your phone began to ring. You looked it over, seeing it was Morris calling you and you slid your finger across the screen to answer it.

“Evening beautiful,” 

“You made it out alive,” You mused, laying back in your bed, your towel wrapped head nestled against the pillows. 

“Always do. I didn’t disturb you did I?” 

You look over at the clock, checking the time. “It’s barely nine.” 

“Not too late for a date then is it?” 

You do a double-take, surprised by his question. “What are we gonna do at nine pm on a weeknight?” 

“Are you doubting me, Y/N?” He laughs but softens suddenly. “We can wait until tomorrow. Or any other day of the week. I just got back and wanted to see you.” 

He sounded so sweet, so sincere. You had been away from one another for a week with no contact at all. She guessed he couldn’t bring his phone on missions of whatever they called them, but he was back now and he wanted to see you. 

So you agree. You dress and attempt to apply on makeup but he’s over before you finish, knocking on the door. You hang out at your place, on your couch. He brought over food and you just eat together, talking and catching up. 

“I don’t know what you can tell me,” you mutter, wanting to hear whatever he can say. 

“Nothing special. Saved the day and all. Job well done for now.” 

“When do you have to leave again?” 

Morris shrugs, toying with his food. “All depends. My team is useful so we get called on a lot. It can be a pain in the ass but no reason to complain about being too good at something.”

“So you just...wait for the call?” 

Morris leaned his head back against the couch, offering a frown. “It’s not ideal. But I get paid to live nicely enough. I get to take out a pretty girl whenever she lets me.” 

“You say that like I’m not a cheap date.” 

“No lady is cheap and that’s fine by me. You deserve to be pampered; even if it’s just taken out at nine-thirty at night.”

You laugh because even if it’s cheesy, it’s still one of the sweetest things you’ve ever heard. You carry on eating, moving to throw it all in the garbage once you’re both finished. Morris follows you, staying close and watching as you work around your kitchen. 

“You know. There’s another reason I’m glad I came back.” He mentions, taking the trash bag from you so you can refill the bin with another one. 

“And what’s that?”

“Well, you know what they say about the third date,” 

You look over your shoulder then, raising a pointed brow at him. “Do I?” You asked. “Refresh my memory.” 

“The third date is when you get the first kiss. The first date is too soon and the second date is when you’re testing the waters. But on the third date?” Morris shook his head, taking away as he stepped closer to you. “That’s when you know it’s for real. That you like this person and want more.” 

You find yourself speechless. Such an old fashioned theory that in reality should be laughable and yet you aren’t chuckling, you aren’t smiling. Morris was a grown man expressing how much he wanted to see you, how much he wanted to kiss you. Grown men didn’t do things like that. 

Or maybe they do and you’ve just never dated a grown man before. Just silly boys who wanted their dicks touched and someone pretty in their bed. 

Morris moves in closer, making his way into your personal space and backing you up against the kitchen counter. He’s close enough that his breath is on your face. It’s warm and welcoming. 

“Do you want more with me?” He asked quietly, those hazel eyes shimmering under the lights of your kitchen. 

You’ve wanted a lot of things in your life. Things you’ve been lucky enough to have and things that seemed more like a dream, completely unreachable. Morris didn’t seem like one of those things. He was here in front of you, offering you the world and all you had to do was take it. 

And so you did.

You stepped forward, deciding to meet him halfway for the kids he had been waiting for. You kissed him slowly, just testing the waters out though it was obvious Morris had other plans. 

He swoops you up, wrapping those strong arms around your frame as he deepens the kiss. It’s more intense suddenly and you finally begin to realize just how much he wanted this. How much he wanted you. You found yourself lost in thoughts of him thinking of you while he was on his mission, one that was dangerous and lengthy. 

You wondered if Morris spent his time thinking about you the way you had thought about him. If he truly did want more than just physical contact and he spent those nights in wherever he happened to be dreaming about seeing you again. 

You’ve never thought so highly of yourself before. You never thought of yourself as someone worth thinking about. You’re a good person but never could you imagine someone kissing you, wanting to see you the moment they got back home. The idea alone seemed so far out of reach but here he was. This amazing man who was holding you so close to him, sucking on your bottom lip as if you keep your lips attached for as long as possible until finally releasing you. 

“Yeah.” He whispers finally, the feeling of his warm breath tickles your cheeks. “Definitely worth the wait.”

And just like that, with very little effort, you’re completely smitten. 

You get used to having a guy around. To having a boyfriend. It’s nice at first, having someone to talk to aside from coworkers and friends. It’s nice having someone to laugh with and kiss. It’s also very nice to have someone always around, specifically someone who happens to be very useful and also very nice to look at especially when in uniform. You had never thought to see a guy in camo or more so, military dresses, would you attractive but Morris opened a lot of doors for you. Both literal and figuratively. 

None of it is easy. How could it be? Regular relationships are hard but being involved with someone in special forces just flat out sucks. His schedule is wonky and sometimes he is gone for long periods. He isn’t a doctor who is always on call and has to be pulled away in the middle of the night but he does get short notice sometimes. 

The worst had been one night while you were at his place. You had gone on a mini-golf date and retired back to his apartment after destroying his ass. Morris is amusingly competitive and was playfully bitter over losing to you but was more than happy to have you make up for it with some adult-friendly fun. 

You had yet to sleep with each other through this particular night seemed to be just right. He put some movie on while you sat in the couch and you both watched t for about three minutes before the arm that laid across your shoulder began moving downwards. You went from sitting beside him to straddling his lap with his hands on your hips holding you in place. 

Foreplay wasn’t your forte but it didn’t take a genius to turn a guy on. Some heavy petting and tongue action seemed to be just the trick and as you found his hand slowly creeping up under your shirt, his door was suddenly open. 

He moved swiftly, flipping you into the couch to block you from the intruder. You were scared out of your wits because of the sudden realization that someone very well could want him dead took over and for a few seconds, you just kept your eyes closed and clung to him, fearing the worst. 

Morris realizes suddenly though he doesn’t move automatically. “How the fuck did you my get in here?”

“You think we can’t pick a few locks? We’re well trained, Mouse.” A man responds. 

“This is illegal,” Morris argues. 

A second voice comes over this time a woman’s. “You weren’t answering your phone.” 

“Well, I’m sort of busy at the moment.” 

Suddenly the man comes into view and smiles. “Mouse has a little friend over.” He acknowledging. “Hello, friend.” 

You open your mouth, possibly to say hello though nothing comes out. Morris shifts then, moving off you and going to stand in front of the man to block his view. “What is it you need so badly.”

“Duke needs the information you gathered the other day.” The woman explained from across the door. 

“And this really couldn’t wait?”

“What do you think?” 

Morris clenches his jaw, turning his head to look back to you. With a heavy sigh, he leaves the room and retreats off to another part of the apartment. You sit up slightly, looking between the two. You don’t know if they look like special forces because really, what does special forces look like outside of their uniform? If Morris hadn’t told you that he was military then you wouldn’t have ever guessed. 

Nobody says anything to you. The woman is checking her phone while the guy is just smiling bashfully. When Morris returns he hands something to the man. “That’s it. Tell Duke that he can come himself next time if it’s so important.” 

“Tell him yourself,” the man replied, frowning as the woman walked in and scooped up the file of information.

“We head out tomorrow at oh-eight-hundred.” The woman responded, already heading out of the place. 

Morris let out an audible groan. “Of course we do.” 

“She’s cute, Mouse. Do you call her kitty?” The man questioned, chuckling to himself as he left. 

Morris sighed again, going to relock the door after the departure of the others. He apologies to you, explaining who they are and whatnot but you brush it off. He doesn’t have to explain anything to you. His job is big and important and most important very private. Whatever information they needed was very dire so who are you to fuss about it. 

You stand to leave, searching the door for your shoes when Morris takes your hand. “Stay,” he requests gently. You remind him that he has to leave tomorrow at six. Probably even before that, but he doesn’t budge. “I’ll leave you the key. You can come and go as you please until I come back.” 

The passion from before is gone so you know there won’t be any sex tonight but it doesn’t bother you much. You agree to stay because he wants you to and you follow him to his room for the night. Like his apartment his bedroom is pretty bland, not filled with much. You had mentioned it prior that he should take his place feel more like a home by adding a few things though Morris admitted he didn’t see the point.

Before you, he had lived so sparingly. He went from mission to mission, more or less living for his job and nothing more. He had gotten quite cryptic one night and admitted that the lack of belongings made it easier for those who had to carry on for him after he passes. It was a cold slap in the face that his career of choice could very well end rather badly. 

Not wanting to think about that now you dressed down for the night, thanking Morris when he passed you one of his shirts to sleep in. You couldn’t remember the last time you shared a bed with someone or if you ever did. Without a word, Morris pulled you into his arms. He didn’t come off as someone who enjoyed snuggling or spooning but he was full of surprises you had quickly found.

You slept peacefully in his arms, feeling utterly and completely safe in the warmth that was just him. When you woke you were alone in his bed, the pathetic chill of Morris’ absence sent a shiver down your spine and you stayed in his bed for as long as possible before finally leaving. 

You don’t go back to his apartment right away. It feels strange without him there but a sudden idea sparks you to return. You bring a few things, some from your own home while others were purchased at stores in town. Little things to make his place feel more personal. Paintings and signs from his favorite sports team. A poster from a movie he had raves about that you framed and placed in the middle of the movie. 

You didn’t take many pictures together though the ones that you gave, yo upturn out and out in picture frames. It’s so domestic you could cry and when Morris finally returns, he almost does the same. Gone were his blank walls and slightly bleak outlook. 

It was almost a week when you saw him again, once again late into the night. Very late. The clock showed a single digit for the time and when you woke at the sound of the frantic knocking on the door you realized it was closer to sunrise than sunset. 

Morris was at the door, standing in the rain looking like a drowned rat. Or maybe drowned a mouse.,you didn’t understand why he was there. He could have waited until the morning or even the afternoon. Who knows where he had been or if he had even gotten any sleep. 

You opened your mouth to speak, to question him and get him out of the rain but he cut you off swiftly.

“Did you put all that stuff in my place?” 

You paused, unsure of how to respond. The answer was obvious. You brought the pictures and posters and knick-knacks. You wanted to take his place seem more comfortable and thought it would be a nice gesture. You never imagined he would be upset about it. 

“The frames and everything else.” 

“Yes.” You replied, forcing the words out from behind your teeth. 

You opened your mouth to speak again, to apologize and promise that you would get rid of everything before he knew it but you never got to say a word. Morris was on your in seconds, kissing you deeply and holding you close despite his sopping wet clothing. 

You fell into the kiss easily because how could you not? You missed him and he missed you, and even though it was ridiculously late you weren’t going to push him away any time soon. He took the silent memo to continue and decided that enough was enough and lifted you into his arms.

Sometimes you forgot just how strong he was. Sometimes he would wear clothes that would make him look so average, so normal and then you’d get a reminder just like now that shows just how much effort he puts into his body for health and fitness. 

He walked you to your room and plopped you down onto the bed. You watched with bright eyes as he peeled away from his wet clothing. You’ve seen him shirtless before, only for a few moments, but now was so much different. Now you were up close and personal with this beautiful creature and all you wanted to do was reach out and touch.

Morris let you because he wanted it too. It was very clear that you both wanted this, right here, right now. It wasn’t ideal and it wasn’t planned out, but neither of you could care. He used those deft fingers that pulled triggers on guns and missiles to open you up, his sticky-sweet voice whispering in your ear. 

He said all the most wonderful things, bringing you closer to the edge. You had never gotten off on someone else’s fingers before. Your own perhaps, late into the night when you were lonely and hungry for affection and a personal touch. You would lay back in your bed and watch a movie or listen to music or watch porn or maybe even listen to porn. Whatever the moment called for. Maybe you thought of someone specific or maybe you called out your name. Whatever did the job. 

Now the only name you were crying out was his. Morris. Mouse. Morris L. Sanderson.

Such an interesting name. A lovely name. One that you wanted to hear and say again and again and again. 

He muffles your whimpers with his mouth, lingering just long enough to remove the rest of his clothing. You expect him to dive right on in, using your juices as lubrication, but he never does. Instead, he wraps his hand around his cock, tugging and pulling on it as he swore and grunted, finishing off moments later. 

You were both left panting, sticky and covered in a mixture of your seed. Morris moved to lay beside you, kissing you with a strange amount of passion for someone who just ejaculated all over your sheets. 

You eventually remove those sheets and your sweat covered clothes. You snuggle up together on your bare mattress, those strong arms wrapped around you ever so tightly. 

He thanks you for adding the things to his apartment, for trying to make it more comfortable. 

“I wanted it to feel more like home.” You confess, nuzzling against his chest. 

You knew it was cheesy and disgustingly romantic, but you wanted to make him happy. To make his apartment somewhere he comfortable and wanted to return to after being away for who knows how long. 

Morris breathes in your scent, his cheek resting against the top of your head. “It does. Well, almost.” 

You tilt your head, your own eyes locking on those shining hazel marbles. “Almost?” You mimic, wondering what it was you could have forgotten to add. Perhaps a few plants that he could water or maybe toss in a pet. Some fish or a golden retriever. “What’s missing?” 

Morris doesn’t answer with words, because he doesn’t have to. He tilts his head down and kisses you. Slow, with meaning, making it quite obvious that the thing that was missing from his apparent home is this. You and him, laying like this. In a bed after the bliss. 

You knew it was cliche and silly. Something you normally would have chuckled just thinking of. But sometimes home isn’t an apartment with photographs or house plants. Sometimes its a person. Sometimes it’s you. 

Things weren’t rainbows and unicorns after that. Relationships went up and down and while sometimes it felt like the honeymoon stage would never, ever end while other times you felt like you had the whole universe against you. 

You moved in together a few months after being together, which in theory was maybe a bit too quickly, but there was always that underlining fear that there may be no tomorrow. That though Morris promised to come back time and time again, there was always a possibility that he just wouldn’t. You knew that was possible for any person. 

Whether they be special forces or work at a 9-5 office job. You never know when it's your time, so why to bother waiting around for things to happen when you can just make them happen.

You made his formally lonely and blank apartment into a home. A place that you filled with plants that you watered and walls with even more pictures than before. You had discussed getting a pet, perhaps dog or cat or something crazy all together. One night you had talked about having children though Morris didn’t comment much. 

The world was full of possibilities, but your boyfriend didn’t think to think of the future, because he didn’t know what it would hold. The first time you had sex came later than expected, all after his strange confession that possibly leaving you with a child was a legitimate fear of his own. It seemed those in his line of work were not permitted to have families or relationships.

It wasn’t against the rules, but the reality of leaving someone behind. And while that wasn’t ideal, some people didn’t care. Whether it be due to their reasons or wanting to carry on a legacy. Morris didn’t like the idea of leaving a family behind. Or having a family outside of his team, to begin with. 

But that was all before you. Now, things were complicated. 

Morris came and went, following the orders of his higher-ups. The Screaming Eagles, as his sub-team had been named, were professionals and just as he had mentioned before, you can’t complain about being too good at something. 

At first, you don’t let it bother you. He’s always careful, always back within a few days. It’s when he starts going more often and staying away far longer that you begin to get irked. You know you shouldn’t. After all, if he didn’t save the world, then who would? 

It got scary a handful of times as while he did come back to you, sometimes he would be a bit more damaged than before. A scar here. Bullet mark there. One time he was in the hospital for over a week, having just barely dodged getting blown up. 

It was terrifying, getting the phone call from someone you didn’t know telling you that your boyfriend was laid up, just partial conscious with bruises and bandages. When you went to see him, he tried to crack a joke, tried to get you to smile, but you couldn’t. You were happy he was alive, but that didn’t change the turning in your stomach.

He was home for a while after that, healing up, but you knew it wouldn’t be for long. His team needed him. Perhaps even more than you needed him. Teammates would show up out of the blue to check on him and while getting to know other Screaming Eagle members was exciting and brought a sense of normality to it, you couldn’t help but be bitter. 

You moved in together a few months after being together, which in theory was maybe a bit too quickly, but there was always that underlining fear that there may be no tomorrow. That though Morris promised to come back time and time again, there was always a possibility that he just wouldn’t. You knew that was possible for any person. 

Whether they be special forces or work at a 9-5 office job. You never know when it's your time, so why bother waiting around for things to happen when you can just make them happen.

You made his formally lonely and blank apartment into a home. A place that you filled with plants that you watered and walls with even more pictures than before. You had discussed getting a pet, perhaps dog or cat or something crazy all together. One night you had talked about having children though Morris didn’t comment much. 

The world was full of possibilities, but your boyfriend didn’t think to think of the future, because he didn’t know what it would hold. 

It had been the largest fight you both ever had. You don’t truly remember what even set it off, but before you knew it, you were screaming and fighting, arguing over things you wanted and didn’t want.

How utterly unfair it was that he could come and go for days or even weeks and all you could do was wait for him come back. 

“I always come back!” He shouted, his voice rising as the anger bubbled inside of him. 

“For now.” She shot back. “You came back after nearly being blown to pieces. And here you are, still healing, still carrying those physical and mental scars and you’re already planning to go back.” 

“I have to go back. This is what I do. This is what I have always done.”

“And I get that!” You insist. You aren’t trying to get him to stop. You’d never do that to him. You knew Morris loved his work, you knew that this was what he was meant to do, but he had to understand. He needed to comprehend how unhappy you were in this situation. 

“Then what?!” 

“I’m scared!” You confess loudly. “I’m scared of not knowing where you are or what you’re doing. I’m scared of you never coming back. And I know it’s immature and I know I this is what you do, but I just…”

You threw your hands up, unsure of what else to say. What could you say? Your feelings were obvious. You were scared and sad, and unhappy. You wanted this man all the time and you couldn’t have that. It was unfair and you were ashamed to feel this way, but you just couldn’t help it. 

“I’m not going to apologize, Y/N,” Morris confessed, stepping closer to you. “We could break up and maybe we should, but I won’t be the one to do it. I can’t. Call me a selfish bastard, but I want you. I want things I never thought I would want. Never thought I could want.”

Breaking up would have been easier. You could have scrapped it all as a wonderful memory and went back to your old apartment or find a different one. You could find another person who had a regular job and didn’t disappear for days on end. Who wouldn’t get blown up during a massive fight and didn’t have a ridiculous codename? 

“Say the word and I’ll leave.” He promised, reaching up with those strong hands to cradle your face. 

The same hands that would pull the trigger and end the lives of the enemy were holding you so carefully like you were the fucking world. 

“Just say it and it will all be over.” He whispered, those hazel eyes bright and wide as he waited for you to make the choice. 

All you would have had to do was say the word. He could have walked away and it would all be over. 

But you didn’t want to do that. You hated how much your heart was hurting, but you knew that the pain of being apart wouldn’t be any less painful than the pain of being together even if you were separated time and time again.

So rather than saying the words and ending everything, you brought your lips to his, kissing him soundly. You caught him off guard, which was never easy to do as his senses were always spot on, but tonight you found yourself finally able to stop the special force's specialist. 

He caught on quickly, of course, moving his hands from your face and down to your waist, lifting you into his arms. He didn’t bother bringing you to your bedroom and instead dropped you right onto the couch where he ravished you ever so properly. 

Sex had always been enjoyable but was it completely different from Morris. He was so attentive to you and your needs, wanting to get you off before he did. You had never been with someone who cared about you as much as he did. Who loved you as much as he did. 

And you never loved anybody the way you loved him. Your Morris L. Sanderson. Your Mouse. 

You enjoyed your final days together for as long as they could last. You went into the city and date multiple date nights. You spent days in bed, rolling around in the sheets and tucked away from the rest of the world. You went back to the bar where you first met and pulled Morris into the bathroom where you fucked his brains out, finally experience the thrill of having sex in a public place.

It was wild and spontaneous, something you’d only want to do with this one person. 

You try not to think about when he’d have to go. He would return to his team and carry on saving the world. That day doesn’t come quickly, but it does come eventually and you don’t let it bother you. You can’t because what is the point of crying? Of fighting? He’ll come back. He always does after all. 

So you kiss him goodbye and promise to see him again. 

Morris leaves and you’re left alone again, carrying on with life like always. You went to work and bought food for the house and watered your plants. You looked into getting a pet so your home wasn’t so lonely when you were alone. 

When Morris returned, it was the same as always. He kissed you wildly, spending a good while making love to you late into the night. Morris was a passionate person, but at no other time was the most full of need and desire than on the days when he would return. 

Normally he wouldn’t speak of what had gone down while he was away, but on some evenings would be more talkative and this night in particular. He mentioned that they were getting closer to finishing whatever was started and that a new plan was being made. You didn’t understand what he was getting into and fell asleep listening to his voice. 

When morning came, you cleaned around the room, finding no sign of a condom. You found Morris in the kitchen, eating cereal on the couch. He was rambling on about how lovely you looked, hair messy from sleep as you stood in nothing more than his tee-shirt and your panties. 

“We forgot the condom.” You mention to him, pausing to wait for him to get upset. 

You knew there were other options for protection and whether or not you were on the pill was up in the air currently. Morris looked up from his cereal, swallowing his final bite. “I know.” He admitted quietly. “Realized when we finished.” 

“You’re oddly calm about this.” You mention, thinking back to the long conversations you used to have with him about pregnancy and having a child. Neither of you was ready then but time went on and things changed.

You didn’t know how you felt about the subject, mostly because you haven’t thought about it for a while.

“Doesn’t matter.” Morris shrugs. “If it happens, it happens. No reason to worry.” 

“No reason to worry?” You repeat, raising a brow to him. 

Morris bobbed his head, turning his attention back onto his cereal. “No reason to worry.” He replied, his eyes focusing on the television before him. 

There was no reason to worry. No pregnancy came and you began to wonder if Morris was disappointed because of it. Sometimes you could watch him watching you as if he was waiting for a chance to come that never would. 

You use condoms when you have sex, though not every single time. Only when he knows he is going to leave, but never when he returns. It’s an unspoken agreement of you two. Whatever happens, happens. You wouldn’t push for it, but you wouldn’t wholeheartedly try to prevent it either. 

You both grow comfortable in the life you’ve created with one another until one day Morris throws a wrench in your plan. A wonderful wrench in the shape of a house. Not an apartment or a loft or a sublet. A house. An actual fucking house with a yard and a garden and multiple bedrooms. 

You lose your mind in not so many words, unable to fathom that this is something you have. You’re a homeowner. Your boyfriend bought you a house to stay in. A house that you could make your own. You don’t believe him, insisting that all of this was just far too out of reach for either of you. 

Morris is just standing there, smiling with his gorgeous smile. “You can make any place a home, but I thought . . . why not make it a bit more permanent?”

“This is . . . Morris!” You’re flabbergasted, unable to fully process all of this. 

So you jump his bones, laughing and smiling, kissing him with every ounce of happiness that you could muster. He carries you into the house that isn’t exactly furnished but that doesn’t matter. You make love on the floor, riding him into oblivion and crying out his name without worries of neighbors hearing through the walls. 

You spend the weekend moving in, finding yourself thankful that Morris had a lot of friends who were strong enough to carry all your boxes for you. They stayed to celebrate afterward. Duke, and Roadblock, Clutch, and Lady Jaye. Everyone whose names you were just finding out. 

You sat in your back yard, all of you drinking beer at you sat around a handmade fire pit as they talk stories about their past missions. You were seated on Morris’ lap, with his arms around your waist as he held you tightly. 

You laughed at the tales they told about your wonderful boyfriend, all of which were silly and wild and brave. When the night came to an end, Morris put out the fire and you were in the kitchen cleaning up. Duke and Jaye approached you, thanking you for the good night and wishing you a happy home warming. 

“It’s nice you know. Seeing him happy.” Duke mentioned. Duke wasn’t the type to say a lot, but when he spoke, you knew it meant something. “Keep it up,” With a pat on your shoulder, the two left the house, leaving you and Morris alone in your home. 

You were able to enjoy it for a few more days before the man was called away again. It was strange, being alone in this wonderful house. It was more open than the apartment and it would certainly be a lot to get used to, but you’d make it work.

Morris would come and go, come and go. You lived your life as well as you could. You were happy and sad, you missed him terribly but were always glad to see him come back.

You were laying in bed one night, one before he was supposed to leave. This trip was the biggest yet. Duke had come over a few nights before going over the planning and while you were in and out of the house, off to spend some time with friends, you caught a bit of the conversation. If they succeeded in this, then retirement was possible. 

Retirement never even seemed like something attainable for Morris. He was too young. Too good at his job. But maybe, just maybe, it was something he’d want and could have. 

You had made love slowly, letting only the light from the moon peek in through your window. You chose not to get dressed, allowing only the blanket to cover your naked bodies as you stayed wrapped up in one another afterward. No condom had been used this time around and Morris continued to kiss your cheeks and lips as you laid together.

“I have something for you,” He admitted softly. 

“Oh? And what is that?” 

“It’s in the nightstand.” He said, tightening his arms around you. “But you can’t have it yet.” 

“What?” You laugh. 

“You can open it when I come back.” 

“Why bother telling me then?” 

Morris just chuckles and kisses you. It was his personality. He was witty and charming and one hundred percent a wiseass. He would spoil you endlessly, but make you wait for it just to make a point across even if you didn’t know what the point was. 

When morning came, Morris was gone, leaving behind a note and a little stuffed mouse for good measure. It was plush and precious and you took hold of it, keeping it close to your heart.You roll over, going back to sleep so you could dream of this wonderful man. You dream of opening up your gift and picturing the life you’ll have together. 

A life full of happiness and joy. With pets and kids and everything in between. 

A day passes and then another. Nothing you’re not used to. On a particularly nice night, you go out to the water and begin skipping stones or well, attempt to. On the final try, you finally get it. 

The small stone bounced across the water surface, disappearing off into the distance. You jump triumphantly, searching around to see if anyone was around to witness your achievement. You were alone, but it didn’t bother you much. 

It would be something for you to tell Mouse when he came home. 

And he always came home. 

Just like he promised he would. 

**Author's Note:**

> My best friend told me if this becomes a thing for me she'll end our friendship, so please don't let this flop.


End file.
